


The Dreams of July 1976 - An Extension

by aldiara



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, Drabble Day 2018, Drabble Sequence, Dreams, Literary References & Allusions, M/M, Shoebox Project
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-11 01:42:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13514127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aldiara/pseuds/aldiara
Summary: In which Remus Lupin is plagued by a nightly invasion of Siriuses embedded in his beloved literary classics.





	1. Robinson Crusoe

**Author's Note:**

> A drabble series written for various prompts provided by [Drabble Day 2018](http://asylums.insanejournal.com/drabbleday/).
> 
> These are [Shoebox Project](http://shoebox.lomara.org/) Marauders, so this will not make much sense if you haven't read the awesomeness that is [The Shoebox Project](<a%20href=). (If you absolutely cannot be bothered, the very condensed context is that Sirius recently kissed Remus and then immediately recanted, leaving Remus in a lurch of uncertainty and confusing literary dreams.)

Remus is on an island. This is not good. Beach, ocean, palm trees: most of these things are not Remus-compatible. He is also in rags, and too much facial hair. 

“No,” he moans. “I’m DONE with those dreams, and anyway-“

“I don’t think that’s how boats work,” Sirius says, unhelpfully. Remus jumps. Friday-Sirius’s loin cloth is distractingly tiny. He frowns at the pathetic canoe at their feet. “Never thought being marooned could be so boring.”

Remus groans, pulling at his beard. “That’s Crusoe for you. Boring.”

“Did you just call a _book_ boring?”

“First time for everything,” Remus mutters, mutinously.


	2. Les Miserables

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (yes, I am aware that Les Mis premiered after 1976. Shhhhhhhh.)

The night is cold, dirty, vaguely Victorian. For a moment, Remus fears it’s Dickens again. Then his fear is swallowed by outrage at realising he is once-a-bloody-gain in a dress. He swears loudly, and breathes on his fingers, which are nearly purple with cold.

“Eponine! I have been looking for you.” Sirius is Marius. Naturally he is, the berk. Dark and flawless, gazing at Remus with pity and fondness that burn him, even through the cold. Something horrible rises in his chest: the urge to sing his pain.

_”Gah! It’s not even the book, is it! It’s the bloody MUSICAL!”_


	3. Tess of the D'Urbervilles

Remus is standing on rolling green hills, which is a relief. And he’s in men’s clothes – old-fashioned, but they’ll do. Now just to find out which bloody book-

“Are you following me, Clare?” A drawling voice, familiar but not. Remus turns. Sirius, infuriatingly dapper, sits his horse easily, a brow cocked at Remus. “You left the wench. Not pure enough, was she? Defiled?” He rakes Remus with his gaze slowly, offensively. “Don’t look so pure yourself.”

Recognition blossoms, along with affront. “Alec D’Urberville?”

That gleaming, dark smile. “If you say so. Come here, Angel, and face defilement. I dare you.”


	4. Rebecca

A dress again. Austere black, high-necked, ivory lace starched stiff beneath. Outside the high window, a dramatic Cornish shore, and all around him walls, whispering secretively: the kind of house that haunts your dreams.

“No, please,” whimpers Remus, “Not Manderley. Look, _he_ kissed _me_ … I’m trying to forget, but this is just not-”

“Stop muttering to yourself, Danny, it makes you look quite mad. Come do my hair, be a dear.”

Remus turns. Sirius is Rebecca, every inch of him – of _her._ Her wild cloud of black hair, her restless, wicked smile. He stares, and all of him is longing.


	5. Maurice

This one is different, Remus notices almost right away. For starters, they’re both in old-fashioned trousers again, but there is no awkwardness. Indeed, they could almost be themselves: just two young men at the edge of a wood at night, a deep, soft, indigo sky above, and Sirius pressing him sweetly, urgently against a tree. 

Remus hasn’t a clue which book this is, and no urgency to find out. He murmurs, “Darling boy,” into Sirius’s hair as if this was a perfectly normal thing to say, and when Sirius whispers back, “ _Maurice_ ,” Remus can only think how right this feels.


	6. Afterthought

“Wait, wait,” Sirius said, grinning. “These were dreams, yeah? Booky dreams? Booky, but sexy dreams? Of little old moi?”

Remus refuses to blush. He utterly, categorically refuses, and if the blush struts up his cheeks anyway, well he has made it clear it is not welcome.

“I should never have told you. I wouldn’t have, if you hadn’t repeated the question fifty-seven times, and yes, I did count. Sometimes dog traits are NOT endearing.”

Sirius waves that away. “And I was in dresses? Is that something we need to explore?”

Remus rolls on top of him. “Shut _up_ , Sirius Black.”

 

~fin~


End file.
